


The Supernatural Alphabet 2

by FagurFiskur



Series: Alphabet Challenges [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Angel & Vessel Interactions, Angel Dean Winchester, Angst, Dean in Panties, Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Human Castiel, M/M, Multi, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 06:03:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6317593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FagurFiskur/pseuds/FagurFiskur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“How about these?”</p><p>Cas tilts his head, squinting his eyes, which with him really could mean anything. Dean turns to Jimmy, but his expression is equally impossible to read. Their gazes are both intense, though, and Dean blushes under the scrutiny.</p><p>“They’re cotton,” Dean adds uselessly.</p><p>---</p><p>A collection of 26 two-hundred word lipographic drabbles ranging every genre, from crack to angst to character pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Supernatural Alphabet 2

**Author's Note:**

> These are the results of a project I had going on on tumblr. I asked people for one prompt for every letter of the alphabet and wrote a 200 word drabble that could include every letter except the one being prompted (if someone prompted Astronomy, for example, I could include every letter except ‘A’). 
> 
> These challenges always help me a lot when I'm struggling with writer's block and this time was no exception. Big thanks to everyone who left me a prompt and if anyone is interested in giving it a go themselves, please let me know!

**Alpha (Alpha!Cas/Omega!Dean)**

You cried out, fingers clutching the sheets when he drove into your hole, pushing you further up the bed with every thrust.

“You’re so _wet_ ,” he sighed. “So loose for me.”

You couldn’t respond. Words were completely lost to you, nothing left but him, his cock inside you, his body surrounding you. He’d been fucking you for _hours_ it felt like; first fingering you until you were on the verge of crying, then sinking his cock into you only when he’d decided you’d begged enough. You were sore, tired, but you couldn’t think of stopping.

“So responsive,” he continued, voice pitched low, “my perfect, needy bitch.”

You whimpered, your hole gushing slick. You lost your mind whenever he got like this, filthy words spilling from his lips. You couldn’t see him, but you knew his eyes would be lined with red. It freed something primitive in you, too, driving you wild with lust, slick running down your thighs.

He growled, thrusts becoming frenzied. You felt his knot beginning to grow, forcing your rim open wider. He drove into you once more, locking you together. You felt him coming inside you, his teeth sinking into your shoulder. You shuddered, your own cock spurting into the sheets.

**Brain**

“What’cha got there, Goldilocks?”

Jess glances up from her notes. She vaguely recognizes the girl who just sat down opposite her, though she doesn’t know her name. “Uh, just studying for a quiz.”

“In a crowded café?” the girl asks.

“I like having noise around me while I read.” Jess frowned. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“You don’t recognize me? I’m hurt.”

Jess flushes. “Sorry, I-“

“It’s fine.” The girl waves her hand dismissively. “You never look up from those notes, anyway.”

“I do, too,” Jess says, feeling strangely defensive. Okay, so she hasn’t had much of a social life since she came to Stanford. Staying on top takes a lot of work.

“When is your quiz?”

“Sorry?”

The girl leans over on her arm, giving Jess a smirk that makes her heart skip. “When your quiz is over, you think you’ve got time to relax a little?”

Jess swallows. “Um…”

“It’s just,” the girl says, “I’ve noticed you around here a few times, not to sound like a creep, and you seem pretty cool. I’ve always liked smart chicks.”

“I might have time for a cup of coffee,” Jess says. “Just so long as you never call me Goldilocks again.”

The girl laughs. “Deal.”

**Castles**

Abaddon doesn’t need to keep her vessel anymore, not down here, but she does anyway. Perhaps she’s getting sentimental in her old age, or perhaps she just likes the way Eve’s eyes drag over her as she takes her seat on Hell’s throne.

She doesn’t need these elaborate dwellings, either, but she feels they suit her. They’re immediately different from the way Hell looked before, when the old king ruled. He had no idea how to run a kingdom, never mind how one should look. That’s why she’s sitting here now, and his head is on a pike by the outer walls.

“What are you thinking about?”

Abaddon looks over. Eve is grinning at her slyly, as if she already knows. She offers her hand and Eve takes it, grin widening when Abaddon bends down to kiss it softly. “Nothing important.”

There are other demons in the throne room and this gentle display probably baffles them but Abaddon doesn’t mind. They won’t be foolish enough to think her weak for it. Not after the last demon who dared question her had his guts torn out and strewn over the iron gates for their trouble.

Eve’s fingers tighten around hers and Abaddon smiles.

It’s good to be queen.

**Devotion**

They both know what it’s like, having your life belong to someone else. To be worth nothing more than what you can accomplish for the people in charge.

It’s a first for Ruby, not having a larger cause to fight for. Anna at least has some experience being her own person. She tries to make it easier for Ruby but neither of them is sure how to act; whatever it is they have is still too new.

What they eventually settle into is uncomfortably familiar. A cycle of sacrificing themselves for each other in whatever small way they can, of constantly trying to put the other before themselves. It’s natural for them both to have a superior, so they become each other’s inferiors.

It takes them a while to strike the right balance. Their attachment to each other becomes less slavish as they learn, more a healthy allegiance. Eventually, it’s just about wanting to be together. About loving each other.

It’s after their first fight – they can fight, now that they no longer fear what will happen if the other leaves – that Anna pushes Ruby against the wall. In spite of their anger, their first kiss is gentle.

**Everything**

You look around this world, and you know it isn’t yours but you want it anyway. God isn’t coming back for it. You bring ruin, and you maim, and you kill his offspring, and it won’t cross his mind to stop you. This world is yours now, if you want it. And how you  _want_  it.

You want to grasp it in your hand, and crush it. You want to touch it to your lips, and swallow it down. You want to snuff out this world, with all its flaws and pain and horrors, and build upon its ruins a utopia.

You can’t, though, not whilst bound to this form. Lucky for you, God’s Morningstar is willing to rid you off it.

“Amara.”

His lips quirk in a grin and you want to laugh. So cocky, thinking your ruination will bring him victory. His sword springs to his hand and you stand still as it hits you, sinking into your frail mortal body. Blood pours from your wound and now, you do laugh.

You grab his hand, pulling him to you, and with your last words you thank him.

This world is yours now, and all things in it. Nothing can stop you.

**Fabric**

“How about these?”

Cas tilts his head, squinting his eyes, which with him really could mean anything. Dean turns to Jimmy, but his expression is equally impossible to read. Their gazes are both intense, though, and Dean blushes under the scrutiny.

“They’re cotton,” Dean adds uselessly.

They’re also very pink and very small, hiding barely anything, which is probably the important part. They’re the seventh pair he’s tried on tonight and the oldest pair he owns, given to him by one Rhonda Hurley.

“What were the second ones again?” Jimmy asks.

“Mesh,” Cas answers quickly. “Turquoise.”

“Oh yeah, the see-through ones.” Jimmy smiles dreamily. “I liked those.”

‘Those’, meaning he  _doesn’t_  like ‘these’? Dean’s distressed at the thought; it’s weirdly important to him that Cas and Jimmy like this pair.

“Come here,” Cas commands gently.

Dean walks over, cock stirring when Cas tugs him closer by his hips and settles his hands over Dean’s ass.

“They’re well-worn,” he says, voice low and rumbling. Dean bites down a whimper. “Well-loved.”

“Um, yeah,” Dean admits.

He almost jumps when Jimmy’s hand touches his hip as well. Jimmy tugs lightly at the elastic, letting it go so it snaps against Dean’s skin.

“I like them,” he says at long last. “They’re pretty, just like you.”

Anyone else calling him pretty would be annoying but now, it makes Dean smile a little proudly.

**Gunpowder**

Jimmy knows he should pay attention. This is important stuff, hunter stuff, and it could save his life someday. How to load a weapon, how to clean it, how to take it apart if necessary. He can aim well but that won’t do shit if he doesn’t have any bullets to shoot with.

But really, if Dean wanted him to pay attention, he shouldn’t have such beautiful hands.

“One more time?” 

“Sure,” Jimmy says.

“And you’ll listen this time?”

Jimmy snaps his head up. “What?”

Dean raises an eyebrow and Jimmy realizes he’s busted. “I said, will you listen or will you just stare at my hands and drool the entire time?”

Jimmy raises his hand automatically to the ( _dry_ , thank you very much Dean) corner of his mouth. “Uh…”

“Dude, you’ll wanna know this stuff when a werewolf tries to bite your face off.”

“They eat hearts, not faces,” Jimmy mutters stubbornly.

“Whatever, same end result.” Dean leans into Jimmy’s side, cups the back of his neck and kisses his cheek quickly. “C’mon, if you don’t learn this by the end of the day then you’ll sleep in your own bed.”

It’s probably an empty threat but Jimmy nods anyway. Better safe than sorry.

**Home**

Becoming an angel’s vessel felt like a life sentence. I figured my life was as good as over. I’d never see my family again, never return to Pontiac, never regain control of my own body.

I didn’t imagine Cas would leave. It was strange, going back afterwards. Amelia was remarried, deservedly so. I managed to win Claire’s forgiveness and trust, but I still needed to find a place of my own.

For some reason, I ended up on Dean’s doorstep. Sam was gone, settled down as well, but Dean wasn’t alone. It was surreal, a door swinging open and my own face greeting me.

It wasn’t a complete surprise. I’d given Cas permission to keep my image. I guess it was a bigger surprise to see an angel settled down. Walking around, fretting over laundry and cooking like a regular person.

I only meant to stay for a couple of days at first, but Dean and Cas were so welcoming. It made me feel less lost, and days ended up turning into weeks, and years. At some point, we went from being roommates to family. My old priest would probably go into a fit, seeing me now.

I still meet Claire regularly and Amelia a bit more infrequently. My family’s simply gotten bigger.

**Injury**

“You have to be more careful.”

Cas laughs breathlessly, weakened by the blood loss. “What for? You’ll patch me up anyway.”

Dean doesn’t reply. He kneels over Cas and places a hand gently over the wound. Warmth permeates from the hand, seeps through Cas as he heals and he groans. A few moments later, all traces of the wound are gone, and Cas’ heart beat slows down to a normal tempo.

As Dean gets up, Cas asks, “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Touch me.” Dean’s face goes blank _,_ and Cas knows he struck a nerve. Dean rarely goes full-on angel anymore unless he’s uncomfortable or about to lay down the heavenly wrath on some poor demon. “You never touch anyone else when you heal them. Just me.”

“That’s not-” Dean looks away, and suddenly he looks so confused, so _human_. “Do you want me to stop?”

That hadn’t even occurred to Cas. “No. Just… _why_ do you touch me? Because we… what, share a ‘profound bond’?”

Dean’s jaw clenches, and suddenly the answer occurs to Cas.

He touches Cas because he _wants to_.

“You don’t have to answer,” Cas says softly.

Dean nods curtly. “Thank you.”

**Jugular**

“Don’t squirm, sweetheart. You never know when my teeth might slip.”

Dean stills, barely biting back the whine that rises in his throat. His fingers clench uselessly around empty air, hands tied to the headboard so he’s got no way of grabbing onto anything. He feels Abaddon laugh quietly against his neck.

“Good boy,” she says, her voice low and warm, and pats him condescendingly on the cheek. “I won’t get nasty unless you disobey me. Keep still, let me have my fun, and I can make you feel very, very good.”

She slides her hand lower, resting her thumb in the dip above his collarbone. Her sharp, red nail digs into his skin and Dean fights the urge to flinch away. Abaddon rewards his obedience with a soft kiss on his neck.

Suddenly, she opens her mouth, biting down. Dean bucks on instinct, trying to throw her off, but she easily keeps him pinned. She sits up, licking her lips. At first, Dean thinks he sees blood on them, but realizes almost instantly that she didn’t bite hard enough to break the skin and that it’s her lipstick.

“I know you can do better than that,” she tuts.

Dean flushes, feeling irrationally ashamed at having let her down.

She seems to sense it, and runs her fingers through his hair, smiling almost gently as she says, “Why don’t we try that again?”

**Kindness**

Abaddon is well aware of what her employees say about her. You don’t get to become CEO by being friendly and she’s had to try twice as hard to be considered half as good.

Perhaps it should bother her but honestly, she’s mostly amused by it. Her rivals and her underlings seem to view her as a one-dimensional caricature: the bossy office-bitch with a heart of ice. Nothing is quite as funny to her as the occasional comment she hears of, how people “feel sorry for her husband.”

“I feel sorry for us, too,” Amara says at dinner one night, an amused grin on her face. “Imagine, being married to a female CEO.”

Amara used to be CEO of her own company, before she sold it for a sizeable sum. Unfortunately, all that money couldn’t buy her a decent sense of humor.

“It’s very distressing,” Eve agrees. She puts down her wineglass and leans forward, smiling sweetly at Abaddon. “Darling, could you give me a shoulder massage? I must’ve slept on it wrong, it’s been aching all day.”

Abaddon purses her lips. Putting on a no-nonsense expression has always been a sure-fire way to get her employees to stop bothering her. But Eve just smiles wider, and Abaddon huffs out a small laugh.

It’s probably for the best that people don’t realize how soft she can truly be. If it got out that her wives have her wrapped around their fingers, her reputation as a stone-cold bitch would be ruined.

**Lazy**

“Jimmy.”

“Hm?” Jimmy cranes his head a bit but doesn’t even bother to sit up on the couch. “What?”

“Hand me the remote,” Dean says.

Jimmy turns his eyes to the TV. It’s showing some cooking show he doesn’t recognize. The remote sits next to it, far out of his reach. He’d have to stand up to get it.

“Jimmyyy.” Dean nudges him in the stomach with his toe.

“You get it,” Jimmy says.

Dean huffs and jabs Jimmy harder. Jimmy pokes him back, grinning when Dean raises his head to frown at him.

“Stop it,” comes Cas’ voice from down the corridor. When Jimmy and Dean overtook the couch after dinner, making no room for him, he’d gotten pouty and gone to the bedroom.

“Come and make us,” Dean shouts in return. “And then hand me the remote.”

“You’re an ass.”

Dean snorts but doesn’t deny it. “C’mon, Jimmy,” he says instead. “If you get the remote, you can get a handjob.”

“Pass.” Dean jabs him hard. “Ow!”

They hear Cas cursing from the bedroom and then he’s marching into the room. He goes to the TV, turns it off, and marches back to the bedroom, muttering underneath his breath.

“Better give  _him_ that handjob,” Jimmy suggests.

Dean somehow sinks even deeper into the couch. “You do it.”

**Money**

“It’s no wonder you walk around like you’ve got a stick up your ass.”

Dean flushes. He wasn’t sure what reaction he expected when he invited Castiel back to his place, but this sure as hell wasn’t it. “What?”

“Sorry,” Castiel says, not sounding sorry at all. He kicks off his sandals by the door and walks on barefoot. “It’s just… don’t you feel trapped living here?”

Dean glances around. He can’t see what Castiel is talking about. Is it the hardwood floors? The wall of windows and the incredible view of the city? The designer furniture? Dean’s proud of it all; he worked hard for every single penny.

“Not all of us can live on our ideals alone,” he says dryly.

“Ideals and drugs,” Castiel corrects. He walks up to the couch, pausing when he reaches the carpet. He digs his toes into it, letting out a blissed out sigh. “Well, I guess not everything here is without value.”

“Wait ‘til you see the bed,” Dean says, not realizing how it sounds until he’s said it.

Cas turns around with a predatory grin. “Is that an invitation?”

Dean clears his throat. “Uh… depends. Do you plan on saying yes?”

Cas laughs. He walks back to Dean, grabbing his tie as soon as it’s in reach. “Depends,” he echoes.

**Naked (Dean/Cas)**

It’s three AM. You’ve drifted for hours, half-awake, half-asleep, but it’s alright. You feel calm here, with Cas. He’s safe. Mortal, but healthy. You like to believe he’s happy like this, though you doubt he could be as happy as you are.

Still, he smiles as he sleeps. His chest rises with every breath. Your bedroom is warm, so warm that you’ve kicked off the covers. He’s bare, which makes him seem more fragile but also more alive. You burrow closer, feel his heart beat with yours. Times like these, a part of you is glad that Cas fell.

Truth be told, some part of you always is. It’s just that usually, you’re ashamed of it as well. It was your fault, after all. But times like these, your joy overtakes your shame. Times like these, there’s little to be ashamed of.

Cas shifts, his arm slips from your waist. You feel immediately colder. You grab it, pull it back to its place.

“’r you awake?” he mumbles. His breath hits your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you whisper.

Cas huffs. “Go t’sleep.”

You kiss his forehead softly. “Okay.”

**Oak**

The tree is massive, its trunk sturdy and thick, the branches and leaves casting a huge shade against the field. Despite this, the grass underneath is a bright and healthy green, sprinkled with vibrant bluebells.

It makes Castiel happy, seeing what his grace has created, and he can’t help feeling pride when Dean whistles.

“Impressive,” he says, squinting up at the branches. “Has it been getting bigger?”

“That’s usually what happens with trees,” Jimmy mutters, but he seems awed as well. “I can’t believe all that fit inside me.”

Dean snickers. Castiel walks past them, staring mesmerized at the trunk. He can feel its warmth, the grace nestled within. When he first visited it, right after his Fall, he’d felt an incredible pull just by being near it. He’d wanted his grace back desperately, despite the fact that he’d willingly parted with it.

The urge is still there, but it’s muted. He can hear Dean and Jimmy behind him, laughing and exchanging jabs, and it makes him feel warmer still than the grace in the tree trunk. He’d rather have them than heaven.

“We’d better head back,” he says, turning away. “I’ve seen all I needed.”

**Purgatory**

She’s not on Earth for long, and it feels even shorter. It’s ever-changing, chaotic when set against the monotony of her home. She’s used to an existence without day or night, without change.

In some ways, Eve is glad when that Winchester brat sends her back. She wanted more time on Earth, to guide her children better, to make the world friendlier and bloodier for them. But there are children at home that need her guidance as well.

She watches the Leviathan leave and return, bringing Dean Winchester and that wretched angel with them. She ignores them and soon enough, they’ve left as well.

A short while after – or maybe millennia, it’s difficult to tell here – a demon arrives. Her, Eve is curious about. It’s rare for demons to come here; only the extraordinarily strong can survive in any realm after being killed.

She watches the demon from afar at first. She cuts a blood road through the forest, and as much as Eve wants to assist her children she knows they have to learn. Eventually, even the most mindless creature leaves the demon alone. All of them, aside from Eve.

She knows the demon has noticed her. She glances over her shoulder, sometimes, and grins. Eve will come out of the shadows soon enough, when the demon demands it. For now, she contents herself with watching, and the demon with being watched.

**Quirks**

Abaddon had always been secure in the knowledge that she was incapable of love. It suited her fine; love made you distracted and vulnerable and weak. She’d seen her mentor fall prey to it, had used it against her enemies, always confident that it would never affect her.

Eve loved. It was the main reason Abaddon was hesitant to join her at first. But the Mother of All held an enormous power that was too tempting for Abaddon to resist. She could even spin it to her advantage, she realized, if Eve were to come to love her.

Eve proved to be enjoyable company. She would join Abaddon when she confronted her enemies. She used no weapons but her teeth, resulting in bloody kills. Afterwards, she would always wipe the left corner of her mouth first with a single pointer finger, offering it to Abaddon to clean. It put Abaddon in a more submissive position than she liked but she indulged her.

When Abaddon first kissed her, tasting the blood directly from her lips, Eve grabbed her left shoulder to bring her closer. She always did, after that.

And like a floodgate opening, Abaddon suddenly felt aware of Eve in a way she didn’t recognize. She noticed how she often ran her fingers through her hair, that she bit her own lip just before sinking her teeth into someone else, that on the rare occasion that she slept, she would always lie on her stomach, her toes twitching and digging into the sheets as she dreamt.

One day, Abaddon realized that she would kill for her. It was devastating but nowhere near as bad as the later realization that if needed, she would  _die_ for her as well. She refused to let her last defenses fall, though, refused to give those feelings a fitting name. It was desire, nothing more.

**Raven**

I haven’t been sleeping much lately. When I close my eyes, I’m assaulted by images of black wings and shining claws. If I do manage to sleep, I wake up in cold sweat.

Anna has asked if I need help. Maybe I do but I’m hesitant to accept it. She may not have gotten me into this situation but it began when she came. In one night, my life was gone. I’ve got no home, no family. No John.

Somehow, I don’t miss him as much as I expected. Anna put symbols on my bones to hide me, and as she did she told me she’d taken away another symbol. Cupid’s. I don’t know if I believe that but it’s not like it changes anything. Even if I missed John, I couldn’t go back to him.

I do miss being close to someone. At night, if I’m not seeing black wings, it’s always soft hands, touching me, pulling me in, and pink lips meeting mine.

Maybe I can blame those visions when I wake up and, seeing Anna lying in the bed opposite mine, get up. She watches me, doesn’t flinch away when I climb on the bed. When I lean down, she meets me in the middle. I close my eyes, and see black wings engulfing us both.

**Shenanigans**

“ _Are you kidding me? In my conditioner?!”_

Dean bit down to keep quiet and kept running down the hallway. He came to a quick halt when the door in front of him opened, nearly hitting him in the face. “Quick, hide!”

He grabbed the angel by the arm and nudged him back into the room and pulled the door locked behind them. “What are you-“

Dean quieted him with a hand over the mouth, heart pounding with excitement and glee when he heard Kevin marching by them. “Hang on…” He felt a wet touch and abruptly jumped back. “Dude! Did you  _lick_ me?”

“You are a child,” came a grumpy voice.

“Hey, Kevin knew he had it coming after involving my car in-“

“A  _child_.”

Dean huffed, but then, he couldn’t really deny it. Not after getting involved in a prank war with a twenty year old kid.

“And you can let go of my arm now.”

Dean turned red, realizing that he’d been hanging onto the angel for a little while, and even more awkward, they were practically touching from head to toe.

“Um…” he mumbled.

“If you want to,” the angel added.

Dean gulped. “What if I don’t?”

“Then don’t.”

**Train**

Eve wakes suddenly. Her legs and ass are half-numb from hours of disuse, her neck aching and her lips dry. She yawns, blinking slowly as she resurfaces from her dream. A flash of red hair in her eye-line shocks her fully awake.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

Eve blinks again. “I… guess you did.” She brushes her hands down her dress, cheeks burning when she realizes how ragged she looks. Her dress is old and faded and she removed her socks and shoes when she realized no one else would be boarding for a while.

Clearly, she’s been sleeping for hours.

“I’m Eve,” she offers self-consciously.

“Abaddon.”

An awkward silence falls.

“Where are you heading?” Abaddon asks. She sounds friendly. Eve feels a shiver run down her spine anyway.

“Home,” she answers.

Abaddon smiles. “So am I.”

Eve feels like she should be on edge in Abaddon’s presence. Her smile, her ruby red lips, her sharp nails, all scream  _dangerous_.

Dangerous, luckily, has never scared Eve. “You’ll keep me company on our way?”

“If you’d like.”

Eve gives an answering smile. Her self-consciousness has passed. She feels like she’s sleeping again, dreaming.  

**Universe**

There are so few of them left. Kali had always been certain in the fact that she’d be one of the last standing – all of them had been, gods are not known for their modesty. Now that she is, it fills her with an odd kind of melancholy.

It‘s starting again. There will be different gods this time, new ones, aside from the few that made it to the end. Perhaps that‘s what‘s making her so nostalgic. She‘s had many allies over the years, friends and lovers and family, and all who were closest to her are gone. It irritates her, then, that the one who decieved her still affects her the most.

It‘s not love that makes her miss Gabriel, she doesn‘t think, and it‘s not as if she longs for him. She‘s never shed a tear for him. He‘s there, in the back of her mind, like an itch she can‘t scratch, and weighing on her chest, like an old wrong she‘s never made right. A wrong against herself, not him. She thinks that maybe if she‘d forgiven him while he was alive, she‘d have forgotten him by now.

When the world begins anew, she hopes she‘ll be able to. She doesn‘t have long to wait.

**Virginity**

If Cas is surprised when they pull up at a motel, he doesn’t show it. Dean kills the engine, stubbornly ignoring the niggling doubt in the back of his brain. He’s already made up his mind about this so there’s no use second-guessing himself now.

Cas stays in the car while Dean gets them a room. Neither one of them speak when they walk there together, but Cas is starting to look confused.

“Are you going to find me another prostitute?” he asks.

“Nope.”

It doesn’t seem to hit Cas until they’re inside their room, and Dean has ordered him to sit down on the bed.

“You’re going to share your body with me?”

Dean flinches. “Christ, don’t say it like that.”

Cas just looks up at him, eyes wide and scared like they were back at the club. Then, it was funny, but now it just makes Dean uncomfortable. He bends down and cups Cas’ cheek, kissing him softly to chase some of that worry away.

“Relax,” he mutters when Cas’ lips remain still. “I’m gonna take care of you, okay?”

Hesitantly, Cas starts to kiss him back. He’s clumsy but enthusiastic, and Dean feels something tighten in his chest.

**Wing**

Dean brushes his fingers through the smaller feathers against Cas‘ back, flushing as Cas lets out a truly pornographic moan.

He probably should be asking Cas to be a little more quiet, but he‘s hesitant to. This is the first time in ages that Cas has been properly groomed, and the hard-to-reach feathers are grimy and bent since Cas couldn‘t clean them properly himself. The poor guy deserves some enjoyment, and Dean‘s not gonna put a damper on that. Even if Cas sounds like he‘s seconds from coming.

It doesn‘t occur to Dean that these sounds actually  _are_ sexual until Cas turns around to thank him and he spots the hard-on in his pants.

“Um,” he says, eloquently.

Cas glances at his lap. “Oh. I didn’t realize- this doesn’t usually happen.”

“It’s fine, man,” Dean blurts. He shifts to hide his similar situation, a terrible decision since the movement catches Cas’ eye.

“Oh,” Cas says again, his voice sounding rougher. “Do you… need some help?”

Dean’s mouth falls open. This cannot be happening. Did his life just turn into the beginning of every porno he’s ever seen? “S-sure.”

Cas leans in and, just as Dean’s eyes fall shut he sees his lips turn up in a smug little grin. His last coherent thought before Cas’ hand palms him through his pants is that the little fucker totally did this on purpose.

**Xanthine**

Sam was just about ready to pass out on top of his notes. He felt like he’d been reading the same damn sentence forever, the words constantly running together on the page into unreadable sludge.

“Need a pick-me-up?”

Sam looked up, mouth dropping open even as his hand reached out automatically for the cup of coffee Jessica Moore handed him.

They’d only spoken a couple of times before, but Sam was half in love with her already. He’d figured it wasn’t mutual, since it had been a couple of weeks since they last saw each other and she hadn’t seemed too eager to meet him again.

But here she was, like an angel sent from heaven, bringing desperately needed caffeine.

“You’ve got a biology test coming up, right?” she said. “With Professor Whitmore?”

Sam snapped his mouth shut, suddenly aware that he’d been gaping like an idiot, and nodded.

“My friend’s got him too,” Jess continued. “She says he’s ridiculously tough.”

“Uh, y-yeah,” Sam managed. “His class is pretty challenging. But I prefer that.”

He winced, wishing instantly he could take it back. What girl didn’t like a guy bragging at her about being smart? Ugh, no wonder she didn’t seem that into him.

But to his surprise, Jess grinned. “Me too. I like to know I’ve earned my grades.”

Sam swallowed. “Cool. Um, thanks for the coffee. I really did need it.”

“No problem,” Jess said.

Underneath the table, her foot bumped against his.

**Yes**

There was never a question about it. An angel comes, tells me God has chosen me for a higher purpose, of course I’m not gonna tell him no.

In hindsight, it was about the most selfish decision I could have made. I wanted to be important, to be someone special to God. It was never about me, of course. Castiel was the important one, and even he wasn’t meant to matter all that much in the grand scheme of things.

But then the plans derailed. _Castiel_ derailed them, along with Dean and Sam Winchester. I remember he never spoke to me those first few months. Not until he rebelled.

After that, the questions were constant. Somehow, he figured I was the best person to look to for guidance. I guess the Winchesters were too lost themselves to guide him, and of course God was no help.

(I kind of brushed the God-being-gone thing off. After losing Claire and Amelia, God being absent seemed logical. That might make me sound bitter, but it is what it is.)

Comforting Castiel comforted _me._ It made me feel like I had a purpose again, even if that purpose was just making one person’s life a little bit better. That was enough, I realized. Castiel needed a friend and he deserved one more than most.

Though I guess most people would call us more than friends after about the third time I taught him how to masturbate. I’d think he was a slow learner, if I didn’t figure he wanted to be intimate with _someone_ while doing it.

**Zoo**

Claire is pretty sure Uncle Cas thinks she’s still ten. That’s the only explanation she can think of as to _why_ he’d bring her here of all places. She’s not a little kid anymore and she’d rather not waste her Sunday gawking at a bunch of animals in cages.

But he means well enough, and Claire’s not gonna make a big deal about it. So she tries to enjoy herself, and finds it surprisingly easy. Uncle Cas’ enthusiasm is infectious, and those capuchin monkeys  _are_ pretty adorable.

Then, about an hour in, they run into  _Dean_.

“Hey, Cas!”

Uncle Cas actually  _blushes_. “Hello, Dean.”

Claire’s never seen him before but she’s heard plenty about Dean, Uncle Cas’  _perfect_  coworker. He’s cute and, judging by the little girl in his arms, apparently a father.

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here too,” Dean says.

“I wasn’t sure we’d go,” Uncle Cas answers, but Claire is still stuck on what Dean said. What did he mean by  _too_?

“Well, thanks for recommending this place. Emma and I love it.” Dean looks at the little girl in his arms. “Don’t we, sweetheart?”

Emma nods, then hides her face in the crook of his neck. Claire’s eyes narrow, and she turns to Uncle Cas, who’s looking really guilty all of a sudden.

Claire huffs, but she can’t work up any real anger about being used. She’s been kind of curious about this Dean guy for a while anyway, and she’s pretty sure she can hold this over Uncle Cas’ head for _months_.

 


End file.
